


Light and Hope

by Mozart_the_Meerkitten



Series: Hope will (Estel and Maglor stories) [7]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergence, Fluff, Gen, Maglor just wants the hobbits to be happy and safe, Maglor meets the hobbits (again), Return of the King, Sort Of, it could technically have happened, there's more angst this time because this is in the middle of the war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:08:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23780584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mozart_the_Meerkitten/pseuds/Mozart_the_Meerkitten
Summary: Maglor once again encounters Merry and Pippin, this time after the Battle of Pelennor Fields.
Series: Hope will (Estel and Maglor stories) [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1583329
Comments: 3
Kudos: 50





	Light and Hope

**Author's Note:**

> I properly return, this time bringing more of Maglor and the hobbits. This idea just popped into my head today and I had to write it. As always, I hope you enjoy.

It had been weeks since Maglor had left Rivendell. He had found that over the ages much had changed- and at the same time, nothing had changed at all. There were still wars and alliances, the people making them had just changed. There were still families being created and torn apart. There were still kingdoms and castles… and there was still darkness hanging over the world.

He had ridden with the Dunedain to Rohan. He had followed Estel along the Paths of the Dead, and he had not feared the phantoms there; he had too many ghosts haunting him already to be afraid of a few more. Nor had he been afraid at the Battle of Pelennor, when the thrill of battle had run through his veins for the first time in over a thousand years.

So far he had not made himself known to Estel. The boy did not need distractions, did not need to be worrying about old friends. Maglor had kept an eye on him, but so far Estel had proven himself more than capable, both in command and in battle. He was proud of him, truly, he had not seen such a mighty warrior among men in a long time, nor such a great leader. Estel truly loved his people, and that had never been more clear than when Maglor had watched him tend to the sick and wounded.

Maglor hadn’t planned to interact with anyone outside the Rangers, but he had heard that two of the hobbits were in Minas Tirith, and for some reason he felt drawn to the friendly little people. So, one warm, not quite spring day after the battle, he climbed the hill to the Houses of Healing.

It wasn’t hard to find the hobbits. They were the two who had had all the questions for him back in Rivendell- Merry and Pippin. They were sitting silently on a bench, staring out towards the red darkness of Mordor with a worry and dread that Maglor could feel like a living presence.

“You know,” he said. “I have often found that the day seems brighter when one faces towards the light of the sea.”

The hobbits jumped and turned to face him. For a moment they stared in confusion at this dark-haired elf before them, then the younger one- Pippin- recognized him.

“Why it’s Káno, from Rivendell, Merry!” he said, eyes wide. “How did you get here?”  
Maglor grinned at him. “The same way you did, I expect, though it is likely we took different paths on our journeys. I came with the Dunedain- the Rangers- to aid Est- Aragorn.”

He walked over and sat crosslegged in front of their bench, and they watched him with wide eyes.

“I hear you two have been busy,” Maglor continued. “Doing great deeds that will be sung about for many ages to come.”  
“That’s mostly just been Merry,” said Pippin. “I haven’t done very much except get in the way.”  
Maglor shook his head. “You saved the Steward’s son, who is a fine man from what I hear. And you have done your part to fight for your world and people, which is all anyone can do in a war like this,” he looked earnestly at the little hobbit. “Do not underestimate the deeds of ordinary soldiers, for they are the ones who truly win wars. Generals and kings may call them to it and lead them and inspire them, but in the end it is ordinary folk who fight win the day.”  
“Are you going to fight? When the army goes to the Black Gate, I mean,” asked Merry.  
Maglor sighed. “Yes, I will fight.”  
“You don’t seem too happy about it,” said Merry.  
Maglor shook his head. “I have seen too much of war. I wish this were all over and done.”  
“Well I wish they’d let me fight again,” said Merry. “I hate being left behind when others go to fight.”  
“Yes, but you have done great deeds in this war, and many would have died if the little folk from the Shire had not been so eager to help,” said Maglor. “You have earned your place as a great warrior among the likes of Beren and Hurin, Merry, and I have a feeling that you have not fought your last battle yet.”

Merry looked surprised, but Pippin broke the silence. “If you don’t want to fight then why are you here?” the younger hobbit asked.  
“Because I have a reason to. I would follow Aragorn to the very throne of the Dark Lord, and die there, to protect him. He has done so much for me, and I would do what I can for him in return, even if it means forsaking what peace I could find in Rivendell. Besides,” he looked down. “This war stretches farther than you know. Whether I stayed in Rivendell or not war would have found me.”

There was silence for a long time after that. Maglor began to wonder if he had made a mistake coming to visit the hobbits. He had hoped to cheer them again, like he did in Rivendell, but it seemed that all his attempts led them down dark paths. Maybe that was part of his curse. Maybe here, so close to the enemy’s darkness, there was no light that a fallen elf could offer. Maybe it was only in Rivendell that he could still shine.

“Do you think they have a chance?”

Maglor looked up at Pippin, confused. “Who?”  
“Frodo and Sam,” said Pippin. “They went into Mordor, and I-I want to believe that they’ll be alright, but now that I’ve seen the armies the Dark Lord has, and knowing that there’s more of them, and they’re saying we haven’t got nearly enough people left to fight-” Pippin shut his eyes. “It just seems hopeless is all.”  
“And he made that darkness,” added Merry, shuddering. “How can we defeat someone powerful enough to block out the sun?”

Maglor felt a surge of compassion and sadness for the two hobbits, and without thinking he reached out and took their hands and stared up into their eyes.

“No one believed that a Silmaril could be stolen from Morgoth’s crown. No one believed that Earendil could sail across the sea to Aman and survive. No one believed the Valar would come to fight for their world against the darkness. No one believed that the world could survive such a battle,” Maglor squeezed their hands. “But all of those things came to pass. The world has not come this far and survived so much to fall into darkness and despair now. I do not believe your friends will fail, and I do not believe that the world will fall. Not so long as we have hope that the sun will shine again,” he looked at Merry. “Sauron can only hide the sun, little one, but he cannot stop it shining. While darkness gathers over the lands in the east the sun shines over the sea, and over the rolling hills of your homeland. The world may change, and those in it may pass away over time, but in all my long years here I have found one thing to be true; it will endure.”

They were quiet again for a time, the hobbits and the elf staring at each other, until tears spilled from their eyes, and Maglor felt the sun shining down on them through the gray clouds.

Pippin sniffed and pulled his hand away, rubbing at his eyes. “What about all your stories and songs then, Mr. Káno? Do you have any more of those we can hear?”

Maglor laughed, a bright clear sound. “Yes, I think I do, young master Pippin. Anything in particular you’d like to hear?”  
Merry and Pippin glanced at each other, then Merry spoke. “You don’t have any tales about Entwives do you?”  
Maglor smiled and tilted his head. “Ah, yes, Yavanna’s caretakers of the forests. The Entwives taught us much about the ways of the plants and animals of the woods when the elves first came to Middle Earth, but I am curious as to how you learned about them. I haven’t seen any for some time now.”  
“We met Ents!” said Pippin, cheerfully. “We made friends with one named Treebeard and helped him knock down Isengard!”  
Maglor blinked. “The Ents tore down Isengard?”  
“Yep!” said Merry. “But not the tower, they couldn’t touch that. Saruman was still inside when we left, but Gandalf said he didn’t really have any power left. Except in his voice.”

Maglor stared at them, then laughed. “It seems that you two may have to tell me a few tales as well! The Ents coming out of the forests and tearing down fortresses, now that is a rare thing!”

“Well, you tell us about the Entwives, and we’ll tell you about the Ents,” said Pippin.  
Maglor grinned. “Fair enough,” he sat up straighter and cleared his throat. “Well, back in the First Age all the elves travelled from the island of Aman to Beleriand- that is, Middle Earth- and when we arrived on its shores we knew very little of the land, save what had been passed down to us from old stories. So when we had time to begin the business of exploring we found many new and interesting things. Much of what we saw had been in Aman, but much had also changed and mutated in its time away from the light of the Two Trees, or under the influence of Morgoth-”

“What does mutated mean?”  
“It means it changed into something similar but with distinct changes. For instance, if you had been born with three ears but otherwise still looked like a hobbit, that would be a mutation.”  
“Oh.”  
“Maybe that explains why you’re so strange, Pip.”  
“Oy! I’m not half as bad as you!”  
“At least I don’t have hair growing out my ears.”  
“I do _not_ have hair growing out my ears! And what about your nose? It’s the lumpiest nose I’ve ever seen, that’s got to be a mutation.”  
“How about we just let Mr. Káno finish the story?”  
  


Maglor laughed as they argued. It brought back good memories of listening to his brothers when they were young and playing in the fields of their home in Aman…

“So anyway, Mr. Káno, what were you saying?” asked Merry.  
Maglor shook his head and scattered the memories. “Well let me see here, oh yes; things were different in Beleriand-”  
“Different how?”  
“Pippin!”  
“What?!”  
“It’s alright,” chuckled Maglor. “And, well, for example, we had never had anything poisonous in Aman, and while most poisons won’t kill an elf they can still have unpleasant side effects. The Entwives helped us to learn what was poisonous, what was good for healing (we had never had such injuries in Aman as those we received after coming to Beleriand), and what areas of the forest to avoid because they had been tainted by the Dark Lord. The Ents helped us too, but they knew more about the great trees and shaping wood and caring for the forests. The Entwives knew practical things.”  
“Do you know what happened to them?” Merry asked. “Why they disappeared?”  
“Oh they haven’t disappeared,” said Maglor. “I may not have seen them in some time, but they often helped me when I wandered the wilds after the First Age. They can be very kind, and helpful, if you give them and the things they love a little respect.”  
“You should tell Treebeard where you remember seeing them,” said Pippin. “The Ents want them to come back.”  
Maglor chuckled. “Yes I’m sure they do. I’ll try and remember that. Treebeard then, where does he live?”  
“In Fangorn Forest,” said Pippin.  
Maglor blinked. “Fangorn. You met… Goodness, you two have been busy since I last saw you,” he shook his head. “Alright, out with it then, tell me your whole tale about how you met Ents and destroyed Isengard!”

**Author's Note:**

> I really enjoy writing Maglor and the hobbits interacting, and he might encounter them a few more times before this series is over. The next part I'm planning to write will actually have Aragorn and Maglor interacting again (finally)... at the battle of the Black Gate! Unless I wander off on any rabbit trails again like I did this time, which is always possible, but I will write it eventually!


End file.
